The Champion by Carla Capshaw

cocooned her. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she’d found a haven to call her own.
    Heartsick, she chafed at the laws that made her father her master and compelled her home. The time spent with Alexius had been short, but enlightening. He’d given her a taste of the acceptance she’d always longed for, but feared never existed. He said he liked her. Whether or not he was just being kind, she didn’t know for certain, but his face, his voice, his touch—everything about him—called to the deepest recesses of her soul.
    And yet, how could she heed that call? A legal marriage required her father’s consent. Even if her father cared about her and her happiness, he would never accept a Greek gladiator as her husband—not that Alexius had offered for her.
    “You give Tiberius too much credit.” His warm breath ruffled her hair. “I can defend myself. Stay with me,
agape mou
. Let me help you.”
    Unable to see an honest way to be with him, she squeezed her eyes shut and soaked in the last precious moment of being held in his arms.
    “You refuse to believe he can harm you if you help me, but you’re wrong, Alexius.” He resisted her attempt to leave his embrace, but she persisted until he let go of her. She stepped out of his reach, the separation causing her heart to ache as though it had been ripped in two. “Violence isn’t the only way to maim a person.”
    “No,” he agreed darkly, his eyes hooded by lush, black lashes. “Violence
isn’t
the only way.”
    Tense silence stretched between them. The fire crackled in the hearth. “Will you take me back tonight, then? Or will you have one of your men accompany me?”
    “Neither.”
    “Neither? The night is so dark. I know I came here alone, but I had to take the risk—”
    “I’ll return you myself,” he said, all traces of tenderness gone from his face and body. “But not until morning.”
    “But—”
    “Velus,” he called, overriding her objection. “See our guest to a room and send one of the women to serve as her maid for the night.”
    Alexius dropped into the chair behind his desk and stared out the open window. Distant music and the laughter of his men and their admirers floated on the night wind from elsewhere in the house. His thoughts locked on Tibi upstairs, he barely noticed the star-filled sky or the cold air sweeping through his office.
    In times like this, when he was alone with his thoughts and the whole world seemed faraway, hewished he believed as his friends did. He envied Caros, Quintus and their wives, their ability to go to their God with their concerns. They fully believed He cared for them and, as Caros had told him many times, sought to make all things work together for their good.
    As soon as they arrived, he planned to seek his friends’ counsel and prayers. For as far as he could see, without a miracle his situation with Tibi wasn’t likely to end well.
    A grim smile curved his lips. His mother, a very outspoken woman with a strong mind of her own, would have complained that his methods of keeping Tibi within his reach were high-handed, but he was grateful his refusal to take her home had so far earned him a night’s reprieve from losing her altogether. Aware that Tibi had been courageous and foolish enough to venture out in the middle of the night to escape her father, he knew she might do the same to him if she thought it best. Short of tying her to the sleeping couch, he had no way or right to prevent her from leaving. However, the maid sent to serve Tibi would alert him if she did decide to go without telling him first. If she left, he’d follow and protect her until she reached her father’s home.
    A knock sounded on the door frame. “Master?”
    “What is it, Velus.”
    “A visitor is here to see you.”
    “Who is it?” Alexius asked, more than a little annoyed by the intrusion.
    “Senator Antonius Tacitus.”
    Alexius tensed. His hands formed into fists. If Tibi’s brother-in-law